Page 22 of Dead Pretty

He cleaned my arm up yesterday after Eleven scratched it. He didn’t have to do that.

God, I’m such a bitch.

If my adoptive mom could hear me now, she would be so disappointed.

Ashamed, I wince, my eyes closing briefly before opening back up. I look him in the eye. “That was really rude of me. I apologize.”

His eyes are watchful, appraising. Like he’s making his mind up about something. Quite likely me and whether he thinks I’m a dick. It would be no surprise if he thought I was a dick.

“Don’t apologize. It was honest. I like honesty in a person. And I agree; it is odd that we keep running into each other. Do you believe in fate, Audrey?”

Every time he says my name, I feel … shook. Like I was just swept up by a wave and tossed around in the sea, swallowing a mouthful of salt water just for good measure.

I shake my head by way of an answer. My mouth isn’t working right this second.

He grins. “Me either. We’ll just call it coincidence then.”

“I don’t believe in that either.”

His eyes move over my face before settling back on my eyes. “No?”

“Nope. Rarely is anything a coincidence.”

“Rarely?” he queries.

He’s so damn sharp. Picks up on everything.

“Never,” I correct.

“Okay. So, what is your theory as to why we keep running into each other?”

“Because you’re following me?” It comes out more like a question than a statement.

And laughter bursts from him.

He has a great laugh.

Deep and throaty. It makes him even better-looking, and until this moment, I didn’t think that was possible.

His blue eyes are alight with pure humor. “So, I’m stalking you?” he says, still laughing.

I shrug. “I don’t know. You tell me.” Surprisingly, I’m smiling when I say this, and stalking is definitely no laughing matter to me.

“No. I’m not stalking or following you.” He’s still smiling. His full lips tipped up at one corner.

I want to bite those lips.

And where the hell did that thought come from?

“I could say the same about you. That you’re following me.” His brow lifts.

And it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m really not.”

“No? Why should I believe you?” He throws back at me with a smile in his eyes.

“Ditto.”

“This could go on a while, huh?”